Subpono Orbis
by Sociially-Diisoriiented
Summary: Amelia Riddle is the daughter of beloved DADA intellectual, Tom Marvolo Riddle.  When she accidentally falls into a portal leading into an AU, she finds herself in world where her father is not so admired.  T for language.


**a/n: commission written for user raped the man on gaiaonline. The character of Amelia belong to her. All canon characters of the Harry Potter verse belong to JKR. The plot & all other original characters are mine.**

**Thank you to my amazing beta, luvsanime02. All remaining errors are my own!**

* * *

><p>The magnificent castle of Hogwarts was visible from the Riddle's household, though it resembled more a plastic toy that Amelia could pick up with a single hand if she could just extend her arm far enough. A melancholy sigh escaped the young woman's lips as she pressed her forehead gently against the windowsill, thinking of the empty halls and classrooms which would once again shake and laugh with enthusiastic youthful life in just a few weeks' time. Yet, she could not summon the usual nostalgic envy at not being a part of the wave of students, or the superiority at never having to hand in essays eight rolls of parchment long on the properties of flobberworms and where they could be found.<p>

All she could feel was a profound sadness. In just a few weeks, before the castle would be filled with boisterous youngsters eager for the new school year to start so they could pull all sorts of unfathomable mischief (it was always unfathomable, no matter how convinced the teachers were, at the end of a year, that they would never be surprised again, for that year _had _been the one where they'd seen it all), it would be filled for quite a different reason. Teachers, Ministers and all the most renown and celebrated Wizards and Witches still alive would gather in the Great Hall to participate in the retirement of one of the most beloved and celebrated intellectuals of Defense Against the Dark Arts of their time: her father, Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Come away from the window, Amelia. Dinner is ready."

An enchanted saucepot, full of some kind of soup with a rich, mouth-watering aroma, floated behind him as he sat down at the table, manoeuvring the pot onto it with a smooth,sweeping gesture of his wrist. Amelia sat down opposite her father, reaching over the pot to grab the bread, and she nearly knocked over the salt.

"Be _care_ful, Amelia," Tom chastised her. Amelia knew better than to take his objurgate tone personally. He had been locked up in his study all day, writing the perfect speech for the upcoming event. Contrary to herself, Tom wasn't a person who liked being cooped up; even when he researched or practiced new spells, he liked to be outside, walking and breathing in the fresh air. He enjoyed the life and openness around him.

"Sorry." Amelia offered a piece of bread to her father, tore herself off a chunk from the loaf, and moved things around on the table to make room for the bread beside her. Though they had a small table, it felt more cozy than crowded. She liked being close to her father when they ate. With their old table, she'd felt like she'd been yelling across a great chasm, and the emptiness of the third, vacant chair had been like a constant slap in the face, a reminder of the person no longer with them. "It's so strange to think you won't be teaching there this year." Amelia moaned appreciatively at the soup – her father really did cook the best – and proceeded to tear up small bits of bread and drop them in her hollowed plate. "I really wanted to teach at least one year with you there. And you're only seventy! You could _at least _teach for another ten – no, twenty years! I can't believe they're asking this of you!"

"No one is forcing me," Tom smiled fondly at his daughter. "You know very well that I'm stepping down to leave the position for Jefforey. He's such a bright fellow in regards to Defense against the Dark Arts-"

"Yeah, that's _all_ he's bright about," Amelia commented with a snort, grinning widely when Tom chastised her with his eyes. He thought it was such an intimidating look, and while it may have worked on his students, Amelia had grown much too accustomed to seeing it for it to have an actual effect anymore.

"Since he's so talented, and has finished his studies, I have decided to step down from my function. It's about time fresh blood and refreshing ideas came to Hogwarts."

"Oh, Daddy," Amelia rolled her eyes. "Jefforey Snape doesn't _have_ new _or_ refreshing ideas. He's meek, and he does what anybody tells him to do, no questions asked. How he came to be so talented at DADA is just beyond me."

"I don't know how you came to have such a low opinion of him, Amelia. He is such a nice boy, and you know he thinks very highly of you."

"Dad, please, I'm eating," Amelia mimicked vomiting. Tom rolled his eyes, a skill he had mastered thanks to Amelia over the years, but a fond smile tugged at his lips regardless. "I just hope that Dumbledore will still be there when my internship at the Ministry is over; he promised me an apprenticeship with Flitwick, since he's also planning for retirement in a few years."

"I doubt Dumbledore will be going anywhere." With a pensive chuckle, Tom added, "He's the type of man to teach until his death."

* * *

><p>Not much impressed Amelia Riddle: raised as a Witch, magic was an everyday occurrence to her; raised by one of the most influential Wizards of the last two centuries, she had been rocked and raised surrounded by intellectuals, and some of the most famous men and women of her time– where any other Witch would have gushed, and most likely marked off their calendar to remember the date on which they met Bertie Bott, the renowned inventor of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Amelia never had to, as he came by one Sunday a month for dinner.<p>

Still, despite her exceptional life, walking into the Ministry on Monday morning, Amelia felt intimidated. She had spent a great deal of her life in the Ministry after her mother's death. Her father, refusing to pass Amelia onto a full-time babysitter, had taken her to all of his meetings and conferences. Although Amelia had never been adventurous at heart, considering a good book such as _The Exact Science of Magic and the Wizarding Galaxy _to be a greater adventure than gamboling about, the Ministry had soon become a second home to her. It had never intimidated her.

And yet, as she breached the double entrance of the towering stone building that morning, she felt a strange kind of shudder in her gut. The kind that made her want to hunch her shoulders and make herself small – even smaller than she already was at five feet and three inches – enough to disappear inside the bustling crowd before her.

She took a steadying breath. "Come on, Amelia," she muttered to herself, squaring her shoulders and jutting out her chin. "This is what you wanted – alternate universes, and the discovery of new worlds! How are you going to brave those if you can't even enter the lobby without Daddy holding your hand?"

The laboratory was a large, white room furnished in white effects and equipment: all furniture and machines were of a blinding white. The five researchers were all dressed in white lab coats and white hairnets, and looked up when Amelia entered the room.

"Hello," she greeted, wishing she knew what to do with her hands.

"Ah," the oldest of the five slipped off his goggles, and stepped away from a table where he had been turning a moon globe, "you must be the new intern."

"I am, sir." Amelia could barely contain her excitement – the man before her was Kirk Tremlett, the only man to have ever reported opening a portal to another world. Unfortunately, his portal had been highly unstable and had exploded, destroying the data he'd slaved over for years. He'd survived, however, and his testimony had given birth to a new social trend: the belief of other worlds existing, and the desire to discover them. Therefore, the Ministry had employed him and a group of researchers to reconstitute his lost data. Amelia had been following their progress ever since she'd found out about the project. Regrettably, the updates had been few and far between, most of the advances made being kept private until their true contribution to the overall result had been guaranteed. When Dumbledore had approached her to tell her that the intern on the job had had to leave due to her mother falling gravely ill and he had thought it appropriate to recommend her for the job, Amelia had jumped and cried of joy.

Brief introductions were made, but Amelia had heard of none of the other scientists. Andra was a middle-aged woman with beautiful gray eyes, but her lips pursed into a thin line as she inspected Amelia from head to toe. Derek and Derrick were twin brothers, most likely in their late-twenties, who exchanged sly smiles before (too) politely welcoming her. The last member of the team was Ragmar, the youngest other than Amelia herself.

Afterward, Kirk handed Amelia a lab coat and a hairnet. "We must be entirely covered in white-"

"So the color energy bounces off – With nowhere to go, they'll contribute to the stimulation of the portal once it opens," Amelia finished, taking the uniform from him. Her hair, a brown mess of curls and knots, was already tied up in a sloppy bun, but she fished out a few pins from her pockets to attach her side bangs up out of her eyes before putting the net on her head.

Kirk gave Amelia an approving smile in response, before turning back around to the others and clapping his hands. "All right, let's get back to work," he ordered.

* * *

><p>It was a strange feeling, dreading a feast. As she dressed for her father's retirement party, a heavy ball of dread grew in her throat. It was unfair of her to resent Jefforey, who was a nice boy despite all his simplicity, for accepting the opportunity offered to him, but she had always wished to be there with her father, in that great, black stone castle, on equal footing: as colleagues. To her, it would have been the final key to unlocking the mystery that was her father. They were close now; ever since her mother had died, they had bonded together in their grief, and in Tom's case, in guilt. But, as a child, she had seen very little of him. As a teacher and Deputy Headmaster, he'd had no time to visit home even on the weekends, and then during the summer vacations, she saw him only a handful of times as he was hebdomadally summoned to conferences at the Ministry. Up until past her eleventh birthday, her father had been a mystical figure who had been covered in a shroud of mist, and over the years, that mist had slowly parted until she'd been able to see distinct features: an arm, a face, a smile, a pair of twinkling eyes. And now that the shroud was almost gone, she could almost see her father in his entirety, could almost understand him. She'd known that the only way to achieve that would be to teach alongside of him.<p>

But that was now being ripped away from her.

* * *

><p>The entrance hall was already buzzing with activity by the time they arrived, a mere few minutes before the official beginning of the ceremony; Amelia wasn't used to fussing over her appearance – she usually threw on the first articles of clothing she found lying around, and her hair was a constantly frizzy, tied-up mess of knots – so when she did make an effort, it took her three hours in front of the mirror, and a whole lot of beauty spells. They were spotted instantly, and a great cheer went around the room before a hoard of hotshot Ministers and renowned intellectual heads swarmed around Tom. Tom flushed, and did his best to remain humble as he was squeezed on the shoulder and patted on the back, but Amelia could tell he was flattered and proud. Glasses were plucked off of floating trays, and handed to both Tom and Amelia. Toasting with a swarm of twenty-odd people proved to be challenging, and sparkling liquor sloshed out of a few glasses more than once.<p>

When attention dissipated, and conversations returned to the original huddles of three or four, Amelia tugged on her father's arm and excused him from his companions.

"We should go find Dumbledore," she said, finishing her glass off with a tilt of her head, and placing it on a passing empty tray. "To thank him for hosting the ceremony."

They found him in the Great Hall, conversing with a few of the teachers. The Hall took Amelia's breath away. The customary long, wooden tables had been whisked away, and replaced with a scattering of smaller, round tables with five chairs each. The teachers' table at the front of the room remained, and all the chairs had been shifted to face it. Above, the ceiling flickered with thousands of candles, illuminating the Slytherin color-scheme and the handful of banners hanging, each containing a smiling Tom Riddle, waving down at where the crowd would soon gather.

"This is ridiculous," Tom muttered as they walked to the front of the room to join the others. "I told him to keep it simple."

Amelia smiled, but held in her response as Dumbledore approached with arms wide open. He engulfed them each in a bear hug in turn; he had always been an affectionate host. They shook hands with the other teachers: Poppy Pomfrey, Madam Hooch, and Septima Vector, who congratulated Tom as though his decision was worthy of praise.

"He's making the right choice," Dumbledore whispered after a few seconds of silence, during which she'd forgotten that Dumbledore was standing beside her, and hadn't realized she'd been staring. She wondered if the sadness was so blatant on her face, or if he'd just known through that recondite insight he had on people.

"He'll be miserable," she retorted. "He doesn't know it yet, but he'll be so bored, all alone in his house with nothing to do."

Dumbledore turned to observe her with what had to be an amused smile. It was amazing how Dumbledore had the ability to laugh at people without making them feel as though they were being mocked. "He's retiring, Amelia, not dying. He still has his friends, and his projects, and goodness knows he'll still be called upon left and right to give speeches and participate in conferences. He'll be just as busy as ever – if not more. Your father never could keep still, unoccupied. Don't you worry about him; he'll be just fine."

Amelia sighed, but she knew Dumbledore was right. Maybe in her selfishness, she had also been worried about her father's well-being, and feared his being miserable more than anything. Dumbledore chuckled beside her, and Amelia couldn't help but share a smile. Yes, her father would be fine, and although she had her job at the Ministry, she would still be at the house, and she would entertain him when she could.

"Why," Dumbledore added, as though he'd had an afterthought, "I don't think even Death could keep your father from instilling his say upon society."

* * *

><p>The months passed in a blur of activity and work. Although as an intern Amelia's job description didn't require her to participate in the actual science of the project, the group quickly warmed up to her, and her tasks soon expanded from the mundane coffee and paper fetching. She was quick with numbers, and the others soon came to take advantage of this. Andra, in particular, took to calling out more complex equations she couldn't solve herself; it saved her the time and energy of dropping what she was doing and reaching for her wand. The twins took to pulling Amelia aside, usually when she was on a water or paper mission from Ragmar, who seemed to be the only one adamant on respecting her status as an intern, to show her their headway. Sometimes, they asked her her thoughts, or to contribute somehow. Even when they didn't, she would rush to her room once her work day was over, and jolt down everything she'd seen and heard, and try to break the puzzle.<p>

They were so close to the final equation, so close to finding the formula for the spell to open the portal once again. Kirk was feeling it in his bones – after so many months of slaving away on something he'd unlocked once before, he'd developed all sorts of ties to the project; one of them resembled that of a mother's to an unborn child still in her womb.

Although it was true that Tom was far from bored in his newfound retirement, he was usually home when Amelia returned from the Ministry. At dinnertime, he'd knock on her door, announcing that dinner was ready and that he would wait for her.

When she would finally emerge from her room, hair askew and cheeks paling from lack of sunlight, but eyes bright and twinkling, Tom would be sitting in front of a cold dinner,reading the papers.

"You should have eaten, Daddy," Amelia would reproach as she'd sit down.

"If I had, you'd have stayed in your room and starved yourself."

Amelia grinned, but knew she couldn't contradict her father without bending the truth. She leaned over to serve them both a generous bowl of stew.

"How's the project going?" Tom asked after a few minutes of silence; Amelia was ripping up bits of bread to drop into her dinner.

"Amazing!" The starry gaze returned to Amelia's eyes as she thought of the project she'd left in her room. "Kirk thinks the spell to open the portal will be ready for a try-out within the week. What's wrong?" she added, at seeing her father burrow his brows down at his supper.

"Amelia, what do you hope to accomplish by opening this portal, exactly? Do you think you'll, I don't know, meet another you?"

Amelia could tell her father was choosing his words carefully, as to not offend her, but the thought only made her snort. "Please, Dad. I think there's another me in another universe just as much as I believe there's a Muggle me frolicking about on the other side of Diagon Alley. This is about discovering _new_ things. How can that not intrigue you?"

"I think the worlds are kept separate for a reason, darling. If there's a barrier, maybe it's because it's not meant to be crossed."

"Don't give me that." Amelia put down her spoon, ready for a full-on debate. "I don't believe these barriers to be any different than the artificial ones put up between us and the Muggles, and I know you don't approve of that one. Dumbledore made you see Wizards and Muggles could cohabit."

"Dumbledore was able to make me see in the error of my methods, not of the ideology itself. He was accurate in that violence was not the route to take. I believe in a separation of our two worlds just as I ever did, but other causes monopolized my interest. Then, there was your mother, and then there was you … The project took a backburner, and now, while I still believe in it, it doesn't seem as pressing a matter as it once did. But Muggles don't know about _us_, and I think it would be total anarchy if they did. It was the last time they found out. Just because we Wizards are able to cohabit with certain Muggles, doesn't mean all worlds and universes can."

Amelia was struck dumb for a good few minutes. "I never knew..."

"I won't stop you," Tom reassured her quickly, though that thought hadn't even crossed her mind. "I know a passion and an obsession when I see one. Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise, Dad. Don't worry, Kirk is the best there is. He won't let anything happen to any of us."

* * *

><p>When she left the house on Wednesday morning, Tom walked Amelia to the front door.<p>

"Remember what I told you," he said, wearing that frown he'd been sporting all morning.

Amelia laughed, and threw her arms around her father. "You worry too much. It'll be fine. The portal will be opened under the best security."

"You still be careful. I love you."

Amelia planted a kiss on her father's cheek. "I love you too, and I'll be back for supper."

* * *

><p>As the head of the project, the duty of casting the spell fell on Kirk. Although any of them would have gladly volunteered, and Andra in particular was an exceptionally gifted spellcaster, the spell could prove to be dangerous if it backfired; in his contract, Kirk had promised to spare any others of this potential risk, and to be the one to cast the portal-opening spell.<p>

They stood in a semi-circle behind Kirk. Their wands were raised, a repertoire of spells open in their minds, ready to summon any counterspell in case of a nasty backfiring. Dressed in white, they faced a large, metal machine they had built to contain the portal; six feet high, it had three steel walls to keep the energy of the portal from crashing into the wall, and potentially destroying it and breaking free into the Ministry. The energy of such things was infinite; if not properly contained, the portal would spread until the entire Wizard world was a giant portal, and everyone would be absorbed into who knew what sort of alternate universe.

"Well, this is it," Kirk braced himself; Amelia could see him gathering up his courage, placing his anxieties and doubts aside, if he had any. He brought up his wand, and closed his eyes for half a second before pointing his wand straight at the portal holder, and speaking in a level but firm tone "_Subpono Orbis_."

A large gust of wind wreaked havoc in the room. Amelia could feel its strength wrapping around her, and she brought her arms up around her face, placing her feet in a more balanced position, and fighting off the force trying to knock her off her feet. The hissing of the wind yelled in her ears, and only through slit eyes could she see the others fighting back – Ragmar and the twins had grabbed the tables, thankfully fixated to the ground, and Andra had had the quick thinking to cast a protection field around her. Only Kirk had been knocked onto his back, caught off-guard and isolated from all furniture.

The wind subsided after a few minutes; Amelia found herself a few feet further from where she had been standing. Derek's hairnet had been blown clean off his head, revealing a mass of shaggy, brown hair. Papers had been scattered all over the room. In front of them, inside the portal holder, was a whirling portal of energy. Amelia gaped; she had never expected anything of the sort. It had, indeed, absorbed all of the deflected energy in the room, and the whirling energy in front of them was a multitude of colors. All of the primary ones were distinguishable, but as they twirled together, flashes of purple, orange, and colors Amelia had never seen before were also visible.

"Wow, it's beautiful," Andra whispered in a trance. They approached the portal; Amelia's fingers twitched at her side, needing to touch the kaleidoscope.

"Don't get too close," Kirk's voice pierced their enchantment, but Amelia still jumped when his arm grabbed her wrist. "We don't know how it'll react."

"It looks stable enough to me." Derrick spoke the words straight out of Amelia's mind.

"What do we do now? How do we figure out where it leads?"

The others backed away a few feet, Kirk's wisdom having spoken to them, but Amelia remained where she was even after Kirk had let her go, turning his attention to the others. There was something… She couldn't describe the feeling, but she knew it was more than fancy colors and a hypnotic twirl that was captivating her attention. She couldn't look away, and a soft hush that resonated louder than the voices by her side made her squint her eyes and strain her ears to try to hear. It was a soft hissing, almost as though it were meant for her ... but what did it mean? She barely felt her body take a step, and she could start to make out vowels and consonants. _Mort ... Voldemort ... He ... Not_ _... Named _– And when she strained harder – _Tom … Mar_ … _Riddle_.

"_Amelia_!"

It was Andra's voice which pierced her isolation, but when Amelia turned around to look at the woman, it was too late. She saw her through a thin veil of multifarious colors, and even then, nothing registered until Amelia opened her mouth and nothing came out.

On the other side, mouths were moving, wands were pointing towards her, and Amelia knew, despite the deafening silence, that they were yelling spells, anything, but Amelia knew that nothing would work. They hadn't thought of a counterspell. They hadn't thought of a spell to save someone once they were inside the portal. They had a spell to close it, of course, but who knew if it would harm the person inside the portal?

She realized this as she watched her friends on the other side of the world – of the universe. But, her last thought as she saw them becoming blurry and moving further away was that, if this portal knew her father's name, if it had called out to her, then the place she was going to couldn't be all that bad.


End file.
